In The Pigeon Coop
by BewareTheSiren
Summary: In a city of chaos where crime never sleeps a King was born. Having spent his life tortured, humiliated, battered and tormented, Oswald Cobblepot worked his way up using knowledge, deceit, rage and sheer manipulation. With his Mother dead Penguin has nothing left but his ever growing empire. What will chance when a woman shows him mercy? Will a queen arise or will her soul perish?
1. Chapter 1

It was bleak, the air brisk, and the sky was covered by grey storm clouds. This was a typical day in Gotham city; a place where murder and mayhem never sleep and the innocents lay in bed wondering if they will awake in the morning. Yet to most this concrete jungle was home, and home is where the heart is as they say, he supposed one would need a heart to truly feel at home. This would explain why he was sitting in the back of a small country style diner, staring out the rain spattered window, he didn't truly feel at home anywhere.

This was not exactly something a King would say about his domain.

Oswald was the king of Gotham. Having worked his way to the top, starting as Fish Mooney's lowly assistant, to Maroni's one time-man, to being Falcone's spy; Oswald has bent over backwards for many, but he manipulated and fooled most, and with the deaths of his foes he climbed to the top. Oswald was a man that had everything, money, power, respect, loyalty; he never took advantage of his success because he knew all too well how quickly everything could be taken away.

"It's another gloomy day isn't it?" came a soft voice.

Oswald's head snapped to the side seeing a waitress standing at the end of his table; she gave him a small tired smile,

"sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" she said. Oswald shifted in his seat so he was sitting straight,

"It's quite alright, you did not startle me," he said. His gaze shifted from her hands upwards to her face. She was quite lovely, with pale skin and turquoise eyes, the red in her hair popped; the rings under eyes proved that she hadn't slept well in some time.

He knew that feeling all to well.

"But I would have to agree with you, it's truly gloomy outside" he added.

She smiled lightly "would you like to know a secret?"

Oswald raised an eyebrow but his intrigue was peeked,

"Regale me, please," he said.

The waitress leaned over and looked around as if to see if anyone was listening in, she turned back, facing him, and said

"My mother always said the secret to a rainy day is hot coffee with a dash of chocolate, sweet yet refined."

She then stood up, holding her notepad to her chest; her cheeks began to redden as he sat their unresponsive. A smile began to tug at his lips; a light laugh escaped his lips,

"Your mother sounds like a very wise woman, perhaps I will have exactly that"

"She was pretty wise, I'll make you something special, It looks like you need a pick me up" with those words, the waitress turned on her heel and headed behind the front counter.

Oswald took the time to watch her leave. She was a lithe little thing, with short hair and wide hips; she stood no taller then 5'5". Many of the woman he knew were Amazonian in height and cobra in heart; it was refreshing to meet a woman smaller than he. The King of Gotham turned back to the window, watching his empire through rain-spattered glass.

Elizabeth reached for a wide-brim mug and saucer. She had noticed the man walk in from the rain, removing his fedora and closing his umbrella; he had walked with a limp to the far back of the diner and sat by the window. He was finely dressed, with well-kept black hair that stuck out from the paleness of his skin; his nose was sharp and his eyes were an iceberg blue. The dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't had a decent nights sleep in a long time.

Boy did she know what that felt like.

A familiar face appeared before her, a waitress with bleach blonde hair and plump lips, all of which came out of box, strictly Elizabeth's opinion however.

"havin' a rough day sweetheart?" her breathy coquettish voice was a thing of potential, it's too bad her face didn't have the same benefits.

Elizabeth shook her head,

"Just making something for a customer"

Ronda raised her eyebrow,

"Never see you make that for anyone else but yourself, got a high tipper?" she asked.

"Table 29" Elizabeth replied as she reached for the chocolate syrup and continued to drizzle the sweet syrup on top the foam of her rainy day special. She reached under the counter and grabbed a chocolate bar from her purse and cut up a few pieces to decorate the saucer.

Ronda paled as she looked to the back of the diner, expecting to see a handsome young man, but instead seeing not a man, but a monster.

"You know who that is right?" she asked.

Elizabeth turned around with her mug and saucer and stared at the stranger's table,

"He looks vaguely familiar but I don't know him" she said as she took a step, Ronda reached out and gripped her shoulder,

"that's Penguin, you know, the crime boss?"

Elizabeth widened her eyes and looked towards the pale young man.

"Just be careful Kitten, don't do or say anything stupid" she warned.

Elizabeth took a moment before taking her next step to the Penguin. Table 29 was a crime lord, never would have guessed it. Most people would begin to fret, unsure of their movements and words for fear of pissing him off. However, for Elizabeth, she was far too used to this city and it's dark underbelly to care. It was nothing poetic; Elizabeth just didn't give a shit. What other people do with their own time means nothing to her, why should she bother worrying about others when she had her own life to worry about. The Penguin was polite to her, and so long as he paid his bill, that's all that mattered. Stopping in front of his table, Elizabeth leaned over and placed the mug and saucer before him. Icy blue eyes casted downwards taking in his delectable treat; the corners of his lips tugged into a small smile,

"This looks wonderful, thank you" he said,

"I hope it's not too much, I always put chocolate sauce on mine so I didn't think to do something different on yours" she said. The man's eyebrows flew up and he shook his head,

"No, no, this is perfect, it was an excellent choice I assure you. I promise you I will enjoy it," he said with an eager smile.

Elizabeth grinned, a small blush forming on her cheeks, why? She couldn't say. It couldn't have been his smile, she got enough half-hearted smiles from her customers, or perhaps the heat was on too high. Regardless, Elizabeth sighed, trying to force her blush away.

"Good, I'm glad. Would you like me to take your order?" she asked.

Oswald Cobblepot took a moment to think, the soft blush forming on Elizabeth's cheeks distracted him, she was flustered, but why? He could not say but the redness was quite fetching on her, and he would be damned not to admire it.

Penguin was not a ladies man, by choice, nor was he a buyer of love, and woman never voluntarily came to his door; instead he kept to himself and filled his time with business. It was easier that way; to not pursue what evidently will become fruitless. Oswald pulled himself away from his thoughts.

" You seem to have made the perfect choice for my beverage so I trust that you will do the same for my meal. Tell me, what do you eat on a gloomy day?" he asked.

Elizabeth was surprised by his words.

"To be honest, I always go for childish comfort food, like French toast or tomato soup and a grilled cheese" she said, "I'm not entirely sure what you would like."

"There is nothing childish about something that brings you comfort" the Penguin looked me right in the eye as he spoke, somehow, right then, he appeared so much older; his eyes were weary and tired yet he stood up straight and still held an aura of intimidation about him. He picked up his menu and handed it to me.

"I'll have the rainy day special"

With a short nod Elizabeth went on her way leaving Oswald with his thoughts.

The Iceberg lounge was a mere month away from completion and his turf was quickly growing. The past year, with the death of his mother, he has become ruthless; people began to respect him, either out of fear or with genuine belief, and he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Nothing in his life was given out of kindness, he would either have to fight for it, take it, or bring his foes to their knee's to negotiate a deal. Everyone wanted something; everyone wanted a piece of the Penguin. For so long he was a puppet, in someone else's scheme, but now _he_ held the strings.

Oswald pondered on his life's work.

Elizabeth went from table to table filling coffee cups and taking dishes; it was not a glamorous life she led but it paid. Sometime soon she hoped to move onto bigger and better things; when would that be and how she would get there was unbeknownst to her, but she would get there, she knew it. Her mother once believed she would be a writer, or a painter, something grand and fulfilling. Her father on the other hand believed she would amount to nothing; she hasn't figured out which one was right. They would never know anyways. Death becomes us all and her mother and father had met their end years ago.

Elizabeth moved on, waiting on customers, and finally meeting an empty mug at the Penguin's table.

"I guessed you like it" she said as she reached for his mug. Oswald turned to look at her,

"Yes I did, very much so. I can see why you like to drink that on a day like this, I would love another."

Elizabeth merely smiled and nodded, taking the empty mug and headed straight behind the counter to fix his drink. The kitchen bell rang as Elizabeth turned around with mug in hand, it was a meal fit for a king, or at least she hoped it was.

"French toast with sliced banana's and a side of bacon; warm, greasy, and sweet, the perfect supper for a rainy day" Said the waitress as she leaned over, placing the plate before him. A smirk spread across his lips as the sweetness of maple wafted to his nose.

"You truly have a gift. The drink won the battle, but this," he said waving his hand over the plate, "won the _war_ ".

A small laugh escaped her lips as she witness the Penguin take his first bite,

"French toast can't be _that_ good" she said.

Oswald swallowed and sighed,

"On the contrary, my mother would make me banana pancakes and bacon whenever I was upset, this very much reminded me of those days." A small smirk appeared on his face, it was fleeting, but she had caught it.

"However, French toast is a far better choice" he added.

The king watched as her small smile grew to reach her eyes; she was pleased that she surpassed his mother, which was something that came very rarely, and somehow that made him feel joy.

"May I ask you a question, and forgive me if I may seem inappropriate, but what is your name?"

His waitress laughed,

" Inappropriate? God no, you made it seem like you were going to ask me for my bra size" she said without thinking. The penguin chuckled,

"That would be inappropriate indeed, you have nothing to fear, in fact I will introduce myself" he said as he lifted his hand to shake her own,

"My name is Oswald Cobblepot."

Elizabeth gripped his hand; it was cool to the touch, but surprisingly soft.

"Elizabeth" she replied.

"Elizabeth" Oswald repeated.

" _A beautiful name for a beautiful woman"_ he thought.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Oswald" Elizabeth added, releasing his hand and brining it to her waist. This was the closest she has ever been to a murderer; it surprised her only a little that she acted like her old self. There were no red flags waving her head, she felt as if this was a normal meeting with a normal man.

' _Am I stupid not to fear him?'_ She thought to herself. Oswald spoke, breaking her thoughts,

"The pleasure is all mine Elizabeth" he said.

With one last smile his waitress wondered off to the next table. Did she know who Oswald really is? Did she see his face on T.V, and hear the stories, just like everyone else? If not, so be it, it was refreshing to be looked at and only see the man. However, if she truly knew, then her acting skills are phenomenal.

When the King finished his meal, he dawned his black fedora and jacket. With umbrella in hand Oswald limped to the counter placing a single $100 bill on the counter.

"Leaving all ready?" she asked as she reached for the cash and headed to the register for some change. With her back turned Oswald peered at the whiteboard by her head showing the weekday schedule.

' _Liz-Monday-Thursday 3pm-11pm'_

"Keep the change Elizabeth" he suddenly said as she turned around; her brows flew up,

"But your bill was only 18.75" she said, her voice filled with surprise, Oswald grinned,

"a pittance for what your service was worth, but I'm afraid I will have to return with more money in my wallet, tomorrow perhaps 6:30 sharp" he said.

"You sound pretty confident I'll be here tomorrow" she said with a small smile on her face,

"what happens if I'm not?"

A slow knowing smile spread across his shadowed face; he lifted his umbrella and gestured his handle to the wall, Elizabeth turned around and saw the white board with her schedule on it.

"I will see you tomorrow Elizabeth." With those final words the Penguin stepped out of the small country dinner and into the wild concrete jungle.

"That was creepy" Ronda said out of the blue, causing Elizabeth to jump,

"Jesus H. Murphy, don't sneak up behind me" she cried. Ronda shrugged,

"It's not very often you see Oswald walk out a door with a smile on his face without blood on the floor. What's your secret?" she asked.

Elizabeth tore her eyes from the door and stared at Ronda, but after a moment of thought she shook her head,

"I don't have one".


	2. Chapter 2

Oswald Cobblepot stepped into the dimly lit room. The air was cool and musky, the stone walls trickled with moisture, and moss formed in patches here and there; the cellar was an ideal place to store food, the coolness kept it fresh, funny how it wouldn't do the same to human flesh, but then again you can't save what is already spoiled. A man knelt in the middle of the cellar, his breathing haggard and his clothes stained with blood, his head hung low.

"Good Evening Mr. Produnchuck…I hope the view is admirable and your accommodations are to your liking." The Penguin stepped towards his guest and stared down at the top of his head. "I take pride in giving to the needy, to give them strength to move on"- Oswald bent at the waist and spoke into the mans ear,

"I believe what you need is a lesson in manners."

Standing up straight Oswald took a step behind his guest while lifting his umbrella, turning it so the curved handle faced upwards; he yanked the handle back against the man's neck. Mr. Produnchuck gasped and lurched as his fingers gripped the umbrella handle, desperately trying for air; Oswald pursed his lips and pulled harder causing the man to bend backwards.

"Listen to me, and listen to me well, because I will not repeat this" he said, lurking over his victim,

"I don't take kindly to liars, or cheapskates." The man's face grew red and wet with sweat, he tried to swing to his side to lose himself from the handle, but to no avail; the shackles on his wrists were chained to the ground leaving no room for comfort. He remained sputtering and gasping as the Penguin continued to lecture.

"I expect to get what I paid for, and for what was promised to me; let me remind you that you greed to my terms…, where is he?"

Oswald loosened his grip on the man's neck; with a gasp and a series of coughs, he managed to sputter:

"I need more time."

Penguin growled and threw his umbrella to the side and stepped in to face his employee,

"I gave you plenty. I want Hugo Strange, and you promised him to".

Mr. Produnchuck fell forward on to his hands trying to catch his breath,

"They've buried him Penguin, they don't want him to be found, too many people are asking too many questions, searchin' around to see where he's locked up." He explained.

"I don't care, try harder, and find him. I want him to suffer…the way he mad me suffer…humiliate him while I pull the strings." Penguin leaned over and grabbed the mans chin, forcing him to watch,

"This is your last chance."

Oswald straightens himself and dusted of his sleeves; with a sigh he called out,

"Gabe, bring the car around," he took one last look at the man cowering at his feet, "I feel like a nice hot meal."

Elizabeth yawned as she looked at the clock, she was barely halfway through her shift and already she was falling asleep. Thursday evenings were usually pretty slow; she didn't mind the low amount of costumers, it gave her body and mind a chance to rest, but when boredom hits, it hits hard. Glancing down at her notebook she ran her pen along the paper, this way and that, forming an image.

"You're quite talented" came a familiar voice. Elizabeth glanced up to see Mr. Oswald Cobblepot, wearing the same fedora and the same jacket, only this time his suite was stripped and his tie was blue.

Blue looked good on him.

Elizabeth turned to look at the clock, a smirk pulled at her face as she turned back,

"6:45, you're late Mr. Cobblepot." Oswald grinned,

"My sincerest apologies, I was in a meeting and lost track of time, I hope you will forgive me," he said.

Elizabeth smiled, to be quite honest, she was glad to see him; boredom aside, politeness was rare and can be a breath of fresh air from her usual customers. Elizabeth walked around the counter with a menu in hand,

"Shall I show you to your table" she said with a slight bow, a parody of a hostess in an elegant restaurant, Oswald chuckled,

"lead the way my lady".

They walked in silence towards table 29 at the back of the room; he watched as the eyes of his fellow diners peered at him, he could hear them whisper quietly. There are many perks to living a life of power, however, there are many disadvantages. He could no longer go back to how it once was, when people didn't notice him; every conversation he has, every interaction, is influenced by the penguin. As the months go by Oswald began to fade away, leaving a shell of what he created, and nothing more. Nobody saw Oswald anymore, and he too was losing site of himself, but when you have everything as well as nothing it's easy to get lost.

"How was your day?" she suddenly asked, freeing Oswald from his thoughts.

"Not as fruitful as I would have liked but well enough I suppose. I trust your day was more exciting than mine?" he asked. Elizabeth shook her head as they stopped at his table,

"if you count killing a spider in the washroom as exciting, then my day was a hit, otherwise I have been counting the tiles in the floor to make the time pass." She said with a sigh, Oswald chuckled, having done such desperate things himself,

"how many have you counted?" he asked,

"Not enough. What can I get for you?" she asked suddenly, noticing her boss look out from the kitchen, watching her chit-chat.

He wasn't a fan of chit-chat.

Oswald followed her gaze and witnessed the middle-aged man peering at Elizabeth. His hair was slicked back and his facial hair trimmed into a pencil moustache. The man's eyes were squinting and small, his suite was cheap and his tie a clip on, the scowl on his face screamed leadership material; that is, sarcastically, of course. This was a type of man that Oswald hated with calculated passion; this man appeared petty, over-confident, rude and above all, belittling. The Penguin reared his head and hoped that the manager would approach his table, chastising Elizabeth; only Oswald knew that would never happen, the man was over confident but most likely a coward.

"two coffee's please" he said.

"Are you expecting someone? I can bring another menu," she said, but Oswald shook his head,

"It's for you. Perhaps you can tell me of your heroics with that retched spider." He said; noticing that her eyes darted to the kitchen where the manager was standing, Oswald added

"I'm sure your boss won't mind, after all, I can be very persuasive."

Elizabeth stilled. She knew all to well that a man like Oswald could be incredibly persuasive, she dare not let her mind linger on the thought; In a perfect world she would be getting back to work, however, this was not a perfect world, and Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to be rebellious and enjoy a coffee with the King of Gotham on her boss's dime.

A small smirk pulled on her lips as she clasped her hands at her waist and leaned toward her customer,

"I'll be right back," she said.

A grin formed as Oswald watched Elizabeth walk towards the counter, not even chancing a glance at her manager, and began to work on pouring their coffee. Oswald felt a sense of pride, but also a sense of intrigue; who was this woman? Were her smiles genuine or practiced? Was she truly ignorant of who he is, or is there a reason to her kindness?

These questions peeked his curiosity more then they should; Oswald had experienced many fictitious personalities, people who groveled to get approval only to turn on him, those personalities never lasted. Penguin watched Elizabeth make her way back towards his table, pondering still on what kind of soul she had, and weather or not she was worth the cup of coffee.

Elizabeth placed the mugs down on the table, and with one last look towards the kitchen, she sat across the Penguin. A sudden feeling of anxiety passed through her as she looked up, seeing his icy blues gazing back at her; he was the wolf and she was a lowly field mouse, stuck in the same cage, watching and waiting.

Elizabeth reached for her mug, never breaking their gaze, and took a sip,

"Tell me, Elizabeth, about the spider." Oswald suddenly said, tearing his eyes away and reaching for his own mug, "did it frighten you?"

"Ronda's the scaredy cat, I killed it for her" she said, gesturing towards the waitress behind the counter, "Spiders don't scare me", she added.

"Oh? And what are you afraid of?" Oswald asked.

Elizabeth shrugged, choosing, this time, to stare at her coffee,

"That's a good question Mr. Cobblepot I-"

"Oswald" he suddenly interjected, "you can call me Oswald".

" _Oswald..."_ She repeated; chancing a glance, Elizabeth looked up, and once again his piercing gaze captured her. She was unsure if she should feel charmed or unsettled from his unwavering stare.

"I'm not sure what I am afraid of, little things like spiders, snakes, mice, they don't frighten me," she said,

"Well there must be something," he said. Elizabeth frowned from thought.

"I don't think I have experienced enough to find something that I am afraid of" she explained. Oswald raised an eyebrow,

"How is that so? Surely living life will provide something to be afraid of" he said. Elizabeth shrugged and ran her finger along the brim of her coffee cup,

"Everything I've gone through so far hasn't made me scared; it's made me angry, sad, happy, regretful, but never scared." She looked away, needing pause from his intense eyes.

"Being scared means the other guy wins…I guess I never wanted to lose," she explained. Bringing the mug to her lips, Elizabeth sipped her coffee, and waited for a response.

Oswald smiled, her answer was not what he had expected, and almost everyone feared something yet she has yet to experience something truly frightening. Elizabeth may be lying or she may be telling the truth. It was hard to say.

"Have you always wanted to be a waitress?" he asked. Elizabeth frowned,

"I don't think anyone dreams of becoming a waitress, I definitely do not want to be here for the rest of my life, but we all have to start from somewhere" she said.

Oswald knew all to well what it was like to start at the bottom and work his way up; being the umbrella boy for Fish was degrading, and humiliating, but above all, it had killed a part of him. What was left of his innocence was ripped away from him and thus began the creation of the Penguin. Oswald has been tortured, shot, stabbed, beaten to an inch of his life; many had made a mockery of him. Yet here he sat, one of the most powerful men in Gotham, alive and feared. Yet not feared by her.

"Yes, yes we do. But not all, some start at the top, having been handed everything they ever wanted, taking it for granted; the rest of us start from the bottom, treated like bottom feeders, and forcing us to grovel and beg to survive" He said, pursing his lips, and gripping his mug; the anger was etched in his eyes.

Elizabeth watched the Penguin, lost in thought, fidgeting with his mug, and his eyes staring intently at his coffee. She took this moment to take him in, up close, and compare his face to the stories that coursed through Gotham about the Penguin.

Oswald was surprisingly young, no older then 27, but his eyes spoke louder than his face; his icy blues were weary, aged, and distant, as if he was lost in another world. To be a shark among fish one would have to witness more in their life then anyone else; death, deceit, chaos…no one can run the underbelly of this city without shedding some blood, sweat and tears. No one develops eyes like his over night.

Elizabeth decided to reach out without thinking, placing a soft comforting hand on top of his anxious fingers; his hand stopped immediately and his eyes snapped to hers.

She cursed her empathetic side always wanting to connect and ease the burden of others; such a trait can make life much more complicated then it should, but then again, she has made a lot of people smile in her life and sometimes that makes everything alright even if just for a moment.

"I agree with you. Life is not easy for everyone. Some of us have to go through sacrifice after sacrifice, losing faith in others, and ourselves, just to get ahead, only to be thrown a dozen steps backwards. Yet there are many in this city that have everything handed to them, they take, and never do they give back. I myself had to work so hard and go through so much just to be where I am right now" she said, her hand still on his.

"But even though there are nights that I hate everything that has happened to me, I remind myself that it made me a better person" she added.

Oswald furrowed his brow, not only was he confused by her gentle touch, but her words as well.

"How so?" he asked. Elizabeth smiled meekly,

"it's made me stronger, in a way, I have been through so much it is like I can't go through anything worse, I don't allow things to bring me down; I wake up every morning, Oswald, and I can see the daylight, reminding me that I am still alive, I am still compassionate and even though I have nothing, I feel that I have more than those rich bastards. I have the gratitude of life and for what I have, and somehow, that has made me a stronger and more humble person. _They_ can't take everything I have because they can't take _me_. We are alone in this world Oswald, and all we have is us, our individual selves, and we take that to our grave." Elizabeth took a breath, feeling lighter, almost floating; her words were spoken with such fervor that she gained a high. Or, perhaps, it was because she hardly slept last night and this was her fifth coffee today. She preferred the former.

Oswald was stunned. She spoke such passionate words. He felt the anxiety slip from his chest and he felt calmer. Elizabeth was such an intriguing person, so young to speak such wise words, but then again, she reminded him of himself. She obviously has never given up, and never lost track of where she wants to go; Oswald suddenly had a new found respect for the waitress sitting across from him.

That was a dangerous discovery.

Elizabeth had touched him, not only physically, and that in it's self was a whole new sensation for him, but she had touched him mentally. Her words hummed in his mind, and the softness of her hand tingled up from his fingers and down his spine; Oswald needed to know everything about this woman and he would stop at nothing to get it.

Unhealthy as it was, feeling a new found obsession course through his veins, Oswald felt a certain joy; he didn't understand why. Could it be that he found a woman that he could love? He could laugh at that thought; no one pursued the Penguin for romantic endeavors. Perhaps she was undercover, trained to lure him into a false sense of security. That thought aside he had to feed his new found obsession and that gave him a certain high that drugs could never provide.

Oswald smiled, allowing it to reach his eyes, and said 

"You are truly wise beyond your years. I couldn't have described it better myself…inviting you to join me was the best decision I have made today"

A small smile tugged at her lips as Elizabeth pulled her hand away to once again wrap her fingers around her mug; a sweet pink began to colour her checks which only fuelled Oswald's obsession.

"ELIZABETH!" a voice suddenly broke the bubble Oswald and Elizabeth had created, causing her to jump in her seat. Whipping around Elizabeth saw her Manager standing by the counter as a small line of costumers had formed ready to pay.

Oswald stared coldly at her Manager.

Turning back around Elizabeth sighed, the colour in her cheeks gone, and a frown on her face; her eyes grew tired.

"I'm Sorry Oswald but I need to get back to work" she said as she slowly rose to her feet.

"No, no need to apologize. I should be the one to apologize for pulling you away from your duties. Please forgive me for my selfishness" he said, his voice reassuring and apologetic, yet she caught a hint of ire in his tone.

Oswald watched her walk away and already he felt emptiness pull at his chest; the king stood to his feet and made his way to the back of the line and patiently waited. His eyes fell upon the manager behind the counter who followed Elizabeth's every move. A rage quickly built inside Oswald's chest but he quelled the fire for this was not the time to show what he is capable of; the manager will find that out soon enough.

"Leaving so soon?" Elizabeth asked, surprised to see Oswald at the counter.

The Penguin sighed but played his professional smile,

"Sadly yes, I am unfortunately needed elsewhere, but I can assure you that this will not be the last you see of me. I look forward to our next cup of coffee; perhaps it will be elsewhere, where we would not be so rudely interrupted. May I ask what your manager's name is?" he asked, his eyes locking on to her manger as he spoke. Elizabeth frowned, hesitating, but soon answered,

"Jonathan Raspbell…Oswald please, if you are going to speak with him, go easy on him, I really need this job"

Oswald stilled, ' _what a clever fox',_ he thought, her slight hesitation spoke volumes to him, she does know who he is. With a final smile and a bow of his head he said,

"Trust me Elizabeth you are safe. I wish you all the best and a pleasant evening."

Elizabeth watched as the king of Gotham limped out of the diner, umbrella in hand, and a healthy tip in her palm. She didn't hear the outrageous lecture coming from her boss; the simple waitress from a hole in the wall diner was far too distracted by Oswald Cobblepot to care.


	3. Chapter 3

Icy blues fixated on _Southside Jonny's_ , a small-disheveled diner, waiting for a familiar face to walk out the door. A slow grin spread across his face as the door to the diner swung open.

"Gabe," said the Penguin; as if on queue the engine roared to life and the car began to move. Oswald drove down the streets of Gotham never losing site of his objective; the car soon stopped and idled outside of a low-rise apartment building. Oswald stepped out into the cool Gotham air and made his way towards the building; inside the lobby Oswald eyed through the list of tenants and found the name and unit number he needed. Looking through the intercom directory he pressed the buzzer code for the superintendent.

"Hello?" an elderly voice came from the speaker.

"Hello, Mrs. Wilks? It's me, Johnny in 48, I lost my front door key" said the Penguin, lowering his voice slightly. There was a subtle pause before Mrs. Wilks came back on the speaker,

"Oh yes, hello Jonathan, how's the cat? Do you need a spare key?"

Oswald smirked,

"Sadly I had to take the cat to the vet, they had to put it down…at least I have a spare key inside so I have that going for me"

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, let me buzz you in. Why don't you make yourself some tea it will help sooth the soul," the speaker said, obvious sympathy in her voice.

"Thank you, I think tea is an excellent idea," he said just as a loud click came from the door; reaching out Oswald pulled open the door. With a spring in his step the Penguin made his way to the elevator, pressing the 5th floor button, all the while a cheeky grin on his face. This was far too easy it was depressing.

Taking the elevator to the 5th floor Oswald pondered the days ahead; his new fascination gave a new dose of energy that he wanted to put to good use. Stopping outside of unit 48, penguin tested the knob, and laughed to himself. Unlocked; this made him wonder how many people were stupid enough to leave their doors unlocked in Gotham.

There's only one way to find out.

With quiet steps Oswald walked inside; the apartment was dimly lit with the only bright light shinning at the end of the hallway. The bathroom door was ajar allowing steam to spill out into the hallway. Penguin took an armchair and spun it around, facing the hallway; taking a seat, he waited, with one leg over the other and his hands folded in his lap. A soft purr sounded at his feet; a large white furred cat brushed against his ankle. Reaching down Oswald picked up the cat and placed it on his lap; petting gently, the Penguin leered down the hallway, staring at the steam with practiced patience.

The sound of the shower turning off echoed through the hall; within the bathroom a shadow moved about ignorant to their waiting guest.

Southside Jonny Raspbell stood in the shadowed hallway, a towel wrapped around his waist, and a horrified expression etched on his face.

"Good evening Mr. Raspbell, I hope you enjoyed your shower, it did seem like such a hard day for you" said Oswald. The Penguin sat in his armchair, still as a gargoyle, and just as menacing.

"Your cat seems quite taken by me." Oswald said, his gloved fingers brushing through the fur, and peering up at Jonny.

Raspbell swallowed his fear; his body was stiff as wood but his mind was awhirl of chaos. The Penguin was sitting in his living room, staring at him with cold calculated eyes, petting his cat. Raspbell considered his outcomes; Schrödinger's cat had come to mind. At his very moment, Jonathan could be dead, or alive, it all depended on the outcome of the next few moments.

"You like the cat? You can have it, consider it a gift, from me and the girls at Southside Jonny's" Jonny said, his voice quivering more then his body, Oswald smiled.

"How very kind of you, I do hope you share the same kindness to the girls as you do me; as for the cat, are you sure? Most people have a strong attachment to their pets," said Cobblepot. Jonny shook his head eager to please.

"No, not at all, I'm not a big cat guy anyways, go ahead, take it." He said.

A slow smile began to spread across the Penguins face, however, it was not a pleasant smile that brings hope and warm feelings. His smile was a kin to Alice's Cheshire cat; a grin so unsettling that makes you question your very self. Yet Jonathan was not peering through the looking glass or feasting on psychedelics; The Penguin's smile was very real and had no adverse effect in making him question himself…only question the amount life he had left.

"Oh good, neither am I" said Oswald.

A sudden crack broke the tense silence followed by a muffled thud.

Iceberg eyes never left Jonny's as the Penguin stood and stepped over the lifeless body of Raspbell's cat. With his umbrella at his side Oswald stopped before Mr. Southside Jonny,

"I am so glad we have something in common it make's it so much easier to talk; you are going to talk aren't you?" he said, his voice calm but deadly.

Jonathan merely nodded.

"Good, now lets get down to business, shall we? I am here because you interrupted my evening." Oswald began to limp slowly around Raspbell; raising his umbrella he tapped Jonny on the head with the handle,

"I really do hate rudeness, and you Sir, have been very rude. You see, Elizabeth and I were having such a wonderful conversation, something I do not often have due to my…career choice, and you had to go a head and ruin it." Oswald stopped where he began, and looked up; Raspbell was taller then Oswald by a fair bit, but despite that, Jonny felt so incredibly small.

"You are going to tell me everything you know about Elizabeth. Where she lives, her address, every little detail you have." He ordered.

Raspbell frowned,

"Look I-…I don't have very much, she's a nobody alright? Liz came by a year ago lookin' for work and I gave it to her. She lives a few blocks away from the diner, small little joint on Walker Ave. that's all I know, I swear, she ain't much so I didn't bother to ask anymore questions" he said as the sweat began to trickle along the side of his face.

Oswald frowned and pursed his lips. Lifting his umbrella, he rested the point on top of Jonny's shoulder, and pressed a button on the handle. A long thin blade shot out from the tip and gingerly sliced the skin along Raspbell's cheek; with a cry and a stumble Jonny cupped the side of his face and braced his body against the wall.

"She is not a nobody. You just didn't take the time to learn who she truly is." Penguin said, limping towards Jonny's cowering body, and held the knife to his throat.

"Tell me her name," he said.

Pale as a ghost Jonny finally began to shake,

"Johansen, Elizabeth Johansen" he whimpered.

Oswald Grinned, straightened himself, and sheathed his umbrella blade.

"Thank you so much. You have been such a big help." He said turning to make his way towards the door. Yet as quickly as he turned away, he moved back, and leaned into Jonny,

"Give Miss Johansen the day off tomorrow, with pay; she works far too hard for you and I would hate to see something happen because you see fit to push Elizabeth to her limits." He warned.

"Done" said Jonny. Oswald smiled, raising his hand, and patting Jonny on the side of his face saying

"Good man."

Limping footsteps echoed through the hallway as the King of Gotham made his way towards the elevator.

Southside Jonny slumped to the ground staring at the ball of fur huddled by his armchair.

Gabriel stood patiently by his car, waiting for his King to return; the driver's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. Alas Mr. Cobblepot emerged from the apartment complex, a smile on his face, and a spring in his limp. His appointment must have gone well.

"Thank you for your patience Gabe" Oswald said as his Driver opened the back passenger door.

"It's my pleasure Mr. Cobblepot judging by the spring in your step it looks like your plans were well kept." Oswald took a seat and smirked,

"Indeed they were Gabe, I like to believe I have made some headway."

Gabriel took his seat behind the wheel and glanced up at his rearview mirror, icy blue eyes stared back, unwavering, the reflection a reminder of Mr. Cobblepot's true self: a cold, calculated murderer that wouldn't blink twice if he had to kill a man.

Gabriel shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

"Where to next Mr. Cobblepot?" he asked with practiced calm.

Oswald glanced away from the mirror and looked out the window.

"Take me home Gabe. I have reservations to make" he said as they drove through the veins of Gotham; his eyes darted from citizen to citizen, the lifeblood of the city, and pondered what the streets would look like if someone nicked an artery.


End file.
